lulu

I am awake earlier today, but am I really awake? And now for your daily yoga nugget of wisdom from me, an upper class white yogi from Southern Cali. I wear Lululemon pants when I buy my wheatgrass from a kid named Krishna at my local Whole Foods.

PSYCH! I am not here to deliver any kind of nugget, nor am I an upper class yogi from SoCAL. I am, however, as white as they come. I enjoy hiking in National Parks and hummus and smooth, safe jazz. Sometimes I even look through Eddie Bauer catalogs and fantasizes about a life where pleated khakis are the norm. Remember my penny loafers, people? Yeah, I am Caucasian.

I do not know a kid named Krishna and it kills me. I do not buy wheatgrass, but I used to steal it when I worked at Good Earth. Not STEAL steal, just drank the leftover sludge after making it for those truly upper class white yogi women.

So here is a fact that BLOWS MY MIND. I just made tea. "What kind of tea?" you hesitate to ask. Oh, just Yogi brand tea. Mind blown! The tag on the tea bag reads "I am beautiful, I am bountiful, I am blissful." Whaaaatever. What-ever. (But we are! Some of us aren't as bountiful as others, materialistically speaking, but scientifically speaking we are all stars.) (But seriously, most of us can't afford a wardrobe of Lululemon pants and daily yoga classes.)

I have not mentioned my eating disorder ONCE so far!

I don't mind talking about ED. In fact, that's pretty much all I want to talk about these days. But maybe you need a break from the heartbreaking confessions and struggles and triumphs. Triumphs can be heartbreaking? Sure.

And maybe I need a break from it, too. A break from thinking about all aspects of ED 18/7. (For six hours I am caught up in the craziest dreams that have nothing to do with ED and everything to do with buying a washer and dryer from Robert Redford.) In other words, I need to find a hobby.

I can't believe this, but ED has been my hobby, my lover, my enemy, my full-time job, my obsession, my life for nearly two decades. TWO DECADES. Okay, sure, I had those years of theater infatuation (which I still think I have, but I have buried it deep, deep, deep inside). And writing has always been a quiet constant. But man oh man, ED has always been this thick fog that becomes a blanket over everything and everyone else. It suffocates while tricking me into thinking that I'm cozy. I'm not cozy anymore, despite the Yogi tea.

It is good that I am not cozy. It means the fog is lifting at least a little bit. It means that I am wanting to see what is beyond the blanket, so to speak. I need to actively shift my focus every minute. I need to be aware of ED's influence and do everything in my power to counteract it with much more productive and healthier activities. Knitting? Do I take up knitting? Not with these weirdly arthritic fingers. Hmmm. Zines? Can I make those things again? Public speaking? JK, JK, JK. Hey, I might even give yoga another chance, so long as I don't have to do any downward dogging with some free spirited bonehead named Krishna. I know it's not very Buddhist of me to say I need a distraction, but... I need a distraction. Or five.

Five distractions. It's my goal today to come up with five distractions when ED habits/thoughts/temptations start kicking in. If you have any suggestions at all, please oh please let me know. I will respond, I swear! And I might even send you on your way with some nuggets of wisdom.